


I taste you on my lips and I can't get rid of you

by redledgers



Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, School Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-26 06:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6226873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redledgers/pseuds/redledgers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint thought of her first as the hot barista and then realized it might be something more when she accompanies him on a mission to seem "more cool"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

If he ever wondered why his order came out so fast, he never asked, but it was because the hot barista saw him come in for his fifth coffee of the day, and she would just start it immediately. And honestly, Clint didn’t mind not having to wait in long lines for a simple coffee when everyone else was ordering weird sweet shit.

“I’m a little concerned,” she said one evening when she pushed his large coffee toward him. The shop was slow; most people don’t get coffee this late.

Clint picked it up and took a large gulp, ignoring the burn. “About what?”

“Your bank account. And your coffee intake.” She swiped his card and handed it back over.

He shrugged. “Keeps you guys in business though.”

“Hardly.” She handed him his receipt.

“The name’s Clint, by the way,” he said before leaving.

“I never asked.”

Clint shrugged and wandered off with his coffee.

 

*

Two days later, he came in when it was empty and leaned against the counter. “I have a question for you,” he said carefully.

She turned around. “If you want my name, learn to read. If you want new drink recommendations, might I suggest water? It’s the opposite of coffee.” His usual order was handed to him.

“No, it’s actually something else. You see, I got an invitation to my high school reunion and I want to go and make them all think I became successful and shit. And I was wondering if you wanted to come as my fake girlfriend. I’ll buy you dinner or something afterward. Or give you a large tip next time I get coffee.” He scratched the back of his neck and tried not to drop his coffee.

She raised an eyebrow. “And you know no other women outside of this establishment that you could ask?”

“Uh…I mean, there’s an ex or two…I dunno. It was kinda stupid, I’m sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow when I get another cup.” Ashamed and embarrassed, Clint turned to leave.

“My name’s Natasha, since you never bother to read my tag,” she said before he got to the door. “And I’ll think about it.”

Clint smiled to himself and waved at her before leaving.

His coffee cup the next day had a number scrawled on it, but when he looked back at the counter, she was busy making someone’s drink. He texted her when he got home to let her know that he had gotten the number. She responded simply with a smiley face, so he just texted her a date, time, and address to meet him at and left it.

 

*

Natasha barely spoke to him when he came for his coffee, leaving him to wonder if she was still mulling it over. If she didn’t show up at his apartment, he would stay inside and order pizza instead. It seemed a foolproof plan, even if it did mean waiting around in his apartment looking a little sharper than usual and fretting about the lack of coffee.

He paced about, running his fingers through his short hair and staring down at his Chucks like he could’ve picked better shoes. The buzzer startled him, and he dashed to the intercom. “Hello?”

“Door’s locked.”

He hastily buzzed her in, opening the door right as she got to his apartment. “I thought maybe you weren’t….” Apparently he’d gotten used to hot barista Natasha and hadn’t thought that she might dress or look different outside of work.

“Are we going to leave now, or are you going to let me in?”

Clint gaped, stepping aside and motioning her into his living room. “Uh, can I get you anything? Like a drink or something? Water?”

“Bathroom?”

“Sure.” Clint headed toward the kitchen.

“I mean, where is your bathroom?” Natasha looked at him, amused.

Clint jumped, realizing he hadn’t actually listened to her. “Oh, uh, second door on your right. We can probably leave afterward.”

She disappeared, and he pulled himself together. Sure, this was incredibly awkward, he knew her only as the hot barista, and he honestly should have thought this out better, maybe taken her out once or twice beforehand. No one was going to believe that she of all people was his girlfriend when he barely knew her.

“Are you going to stare at your shoes forever?” she asked, startling him again.

“No, we can leave, go to the thing.” He grabbed his jacket and opened the door for her. “I can drive, my car is in the garage.”

“Mine is in the visitor lot, which is easier to get to,” she pointed out, apparently knowing his own building better than he did.

“Well then, lead the way, Natasha.” He paused. “For strictly fake girlfriend purposes, what is your last name? Because I’ll have to introduce you to people…”

“Romanoff,” she replied, pulling him out the door and only waiting seconds for him to close it before bringing him to the visitor parking lot. “So is this thing at your old high school, or somewhere else, and why the fuck do you still live in the same town as your old high school?”

He got into the car. “I kinda dropped out of high school. But I still ended up on the list, apparently.” Clint shrugged. “If you don’t want to do this, we can just go to dinner or something. This is just really weird for me, you know?”

“Trust me, it’s different for me too.”

Clint directed her to the hotel ballroom the reunion was happening. He tried to ask her questions on the ride there, but got short responses and more questions directed toward himself, including some about his coffee habits. When they arrived, she slipped so naturally into the role of his girlfriend that he wondered if she had gone to acting school.

The problem with this was that he started to fall a little bit in love with her, or whomever she was pretending to be (his girlfriend from New York), every time she charmed the pants off of his former classmates. He felt satisfied though, that the surprise his presence was greeted with was taken over quickly by awe and jealousy. A high school drop out should not have managed to land a hot girlfriend and be semi successful. He’d told her he was an archery instructor, and she managed to make that sound fancy.

And somehow, at the end of all of it, after the shots she downed, she was perfectly fine to drive. He wondered if it would be rude to ask if she was a stereotypical Russian, because he’d figured that much out about her from her last name. She pulled in front of his apartment building, stopped the car, and stared at him.

He stared back, bewildered.

“Well, aren’t you going to go inside?”

Clint blinked.

“Or are you waiting for me to thank you for this evening out and say that I’ll let you know when I’m free again for dinner? Do you need to be walked to your door?”

“Oh, right. Thought you’d pull into the parking lot. Dunno why.” He knew why. He’d been so into the role she’d played that his brain had been scrambled and he thought she might want to at least kiss him goodbye.

“If it makes it easier for you, I can do that.” She reached for her keys.

Clint stopped her. “No, it’s fine. Thank you, actually. I owe you for this. Probably two dinners, not one.” He got out of the car.

“Hey Clint,” she called after him, rolling down the window. “You really should cut down on caffeine.”

 

*

A week later, his coffee had another note on it, this time telling him a time and date, location TBA. She raised her eyebrow when he turned back to the counter before heading out the door, reading the note again and grinning. Natasha texted him two days later with the name of a small restaurant in the next town over, telling him that she would be at his place at 6 and he was driving this time.

Clint heaved a sigh of relief. Yes, he owed her this dinner, but at least it looked like she wanted to go with him. And, like the last time, she was buzzing his unit promptly at 6. “It’s more convenient to come up here,” she said when he asked why she didn’t just wait for him to bring the car around. “Besides, I have to make sure you aren’t dead or blowing me off.”

Dinner was a completely different ordeal than the reunion had been. Or, Natasha was different. More genuine, he thought, and actually willing to talk with him a little more in depth about his teaching, her own job, and the town. She was only here temporarily, had been here for a few months already, and was planning to move back to New York at the end of the year. Clint felt sad after that, but brought up that he’d been wanting to see more of the world than he had from his basic training barracks.

“You were in the army?”

Clint shrugged. “What’s a kid to do after he dropped out of high school? Joined the army, lied about my birthday, went through basic, got found out, but for some reason they didn’t dishonorably discharge me. Guess my CO pitied me. I took up archery after that.”

“I thought the military here paid for college.”

“They help out, I just haven’t decided where I want to go or what I want to do. So I came back here because it was the last place I called home.”

She was quiet for a while after that, focusing on her food, and shortly thereafter, the meal was over.

Clint invited her up to his place for a drink when they pulled into the parking garage, saw her hesitate, but before he could backtrack, she accepted. After two beers on his part and one on hers, she started to lean a little closer. Clint had seen her drink at the reunion and he knew this wasn’t a tipsy action. This was a calculated decision on her part, and he was curious to see how it would play out.

Time stopped when she kissed him, a gentle press of soft lips against his own. Honestly, he’d expected something hotter and he was blown away when she pulled back, eyes searching his. He must have given her some sort of signal because she went in for another kiss, deeper this time, and rested her hand on his chest.

“Tasha,” he managed, breaking away. She looked crestfallen, and he frowned. “I’m not…I just wanted to check, you know?”

“Check what?” Natasha was vulnerable, unsure.

“I just never presume what a lady does or doesn’t do on a first date. Or whatever this is.”

She bit her lip. “If you do nothing else, could I see what you look like without a shirt? I’m curious.”

“What?”

“You’re an archery instructor. I’m curious.” She looked down and mumbled, “You don’t have to, it’s fine. I’m good to drive home.”

Clint’s brain clicked into gear. “Wait, wait hold on.” He pulled off his shirt, dropping it onto the floor. “Is this what you expected?” He flexed, pretending like he was a bodybuilder.

Natasha looked back up at him, and then smiled slowly. “I’m not sure what I expected.” She quieted again. “If I kiss you goodbye, would that be okay?”

“That’d be really okay,” he said hastily, reaching for his shirt.

She disrupted him, climbing into his lap and kissing him again, firmer still this time than the last two, almost like she didn’t know if it would be the last time. There was fire in her eyes when she stopped for a breather, and Clint looked up at her with a cheeky grin. “You got an opening shift tomorrow?”

She shook her head. Clint liked the way her short curls moved when she did that.

“I could take you to breakfast then,” he said.

“After what?”

“After whatever you want.”

She grinned, feral. “Well I have the day off, so dinner might be more appropriate.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was intended to be one chapter. It is now two, with the addition of a short epilogue of sorts because I couldn't let this idea go, and it needed to be furthered.
> 
> Perhaps I should've waited until this last part was finished before posting the first part, in order to make this a complete one-shot. But I couldn't know that a week or so later I'd have this kicking around in my head.
> 
> So please enjoy this little wrap up!

Her next shift, Clint got his coffee and turned red, fidgeting and wondering if he should say anything. Natasha remained collected. One of her coworkers nudged her. "I think he likes you. You should get on that."

"Trust me I have. Several times."

And so fucking hot barista Natasha became a thing.

Not every date ended in sex, Natasha was far too acrobatic for Clint to keep up every time, and it was probably better anyway. It was two months before she let him into her own bedroom; he'd admired her tidy minimalist apartment and found her low bed to be interesting. When she was curled on it he remarked it looked like a cat bed.

After a few months, they were sitting on her couch with takeout. "I signed the lease for my apartment in New York," she said. "I'm moving a little earlier than planned, in a month or so."

"I love you," Clint blurted in response. They'd never outlined their relationship in the first place.

Natasha's eyes widened and she stared at him, searching. His heart dropped. Not because her look meant she didn't return the sentiment but because he realized for the first time all the little things: the scars littered across her body that he'd never had the time to understand properly because she was too fast, too flexible; her obviously hidden life outside of the coffee shop and her job in New York.  And he realized that while Natasha had let him in, she hadn't let him _in_ , and that what he'd just said could be the first time someone told her that.

He opened his mouth to explain, but the phrase “I love you” spilled out again, as if it were all he could say.

Natasha finally blinked and looked down at her chopsticks so quickly, that if Clint hadn’t been watching her carefully, he would’ve missed it. It was a moment of hesitation, for once, he’d caught her off guard.

Clint fumbled with his phone to type out “ _I’m sorry if that was uncalled for”_ and showed it to her, not trusting his mouth to say the words. His attempt at apologizing elicited a smile from her, and she offered him an egg roll. He managed to get his bearings again and took it from her. “What’s this?” he asked.

“It’s an egg roll.”

He let out a small huffing laugh. “No, what’s it for?”

Natasha paused. “Because I don’t want to kiss you right now.”

“So you decided to feed me instead? Was it because I said that thing?” Still, he ate the roll.

Natasha ate for a bit before talking again. “That thing,” she said slowly. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why say it?”

Clint watched her again. Her usually carefully schooled face was open and searching. “Well, because it’s true. Because I like you when you’re like this, and I like you when you’re making coffee at the shop and ignoring me. And because you listen to me and you’re smart and pretty, and the sex isn’t too bad either.”

She wanted to make a snarky comment about his views on sex, but it didn’t seem appropriate. Instead, she said simply, “Thank you,” and grabbed his hand shyly.

Clint grinned at her. “So it’s good?”

Natasha nodded.

 

*

 

About two weeks later, Natasha suggested Clint move to New York with her. “There are jobs for you there, I can find some. And you should get out of this town. Besides, what will your old classmates think about your successful girlfriend up and moving away?”

He understood this as her way of saying “I love you” because it meant that she wanted him around long term, and she was willing to let him into her own apartment if he wanted. So Clint gave his archery job a month’s notice, helped find some people who could instruct in his place, and started packing up his things.

Natasha made him sell his bed, hers would work better in the studio loft, and they didn’t need separate beds anyway. A month after that, they had shipped off everything to be moved into the apartment while they drove to Manhattan.

Clint had been to the city once in his life, as a stopover, and he’d found it to be incredibly overwhelming and a little dirty. But with Natasha, he thought it was the best place in the world. She found him a place at an archery range where he could thrive and teach young kids at schools. He would come home in the evenings with stories and sometimes pastries, and they would laugh together in the apartment that was a mix of minimalism and mess, but was perfectly descriptive o their lives.

And maybe, just a little bit along the drive there, she let him in.

**Author's Note:**

> Clint's a goober who will always fall in love with Natasha within like 3 seconds of spending time with her. Natasha is ever curious and hey, if a kiss feels good the first two times, she might as well try again, right? Also she finds him incredibly endearing and that archer back hmm well......


End file.
